


As Long As We Have Each Other

by TheTurtleFromHell



Category: Castlevania (Cartoon), 悪魔城ドラキュラ | Castlevania Series
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Character Study, Child Abuse, Domestic Violence, Gen, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-28
Updated: 2019-10-28
Packaged: 2021-01-04 23:01:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,238
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21205499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheTurtleFromHell/pseuds/TheTurtleFromHell
Summary: Hector is desperate to make his parents understand.





	As Long As We Have Each Other

At home, he didn’t have a name.

He used to, but it had been replaced with things like ‘that boy’ and ‘that freak’. There was nothing about him they liked. If he was silent he was too quiet, if he talked he was too noisy, if he didn’t eat they called him picky and if he asked for seconds they said he was piggish.

But out here, his existence wasn’t just contradictions. He wasn’t a disappointment or devil child.

He just was.

Hector took a deep breath, the crisp autumn air filling his lungs. A breeze caressed his hair, leaves brushing past him as they finally gave up their fight to cling onto the trees.

The other kids in his town said autumn was no fun, but he disagreed.

He liked jumping onto piles of leaves, enjoying the satisfying crunch they made. There were always plenty of critters hiding under leaf beds that you could search for, and if you were lucky perhaps catch them.

However, his fall fun kept being interrupted by a nagging question. How to get his parents to understand.

His father and his father’s family took pride in their magic. As far as he was aware, every house the Cronqvists built or owned needed to have an alchemy lab. They wrote letters back and forth of every study and theory they came across in pursuit of one goal. Gold.

But it was clear from his very first lesson, Hector’s magic differed. He just didn’t seem to have the ability to focus on long equations and formulas and chemicals. Several family members had come over in attempts to help, sure that their teaching method would be best.

They all left in frustration after only a week.

Then there was the discovery a few years ago.

It began with small insects. Hector had assumed that they had simply been resting until he picked them up, to which they flew from his hand. Then came the day his mother found a dead mouse of the porch, a gift from a stray cat Hector had fed.

He knew it was the circle of life, but the poor thing looked like it has suffered, covered in bites. He wept for it, unthinkingly picking it up despite his mother’s screams as he hummed a soft psalm he had learned.

Then it stood in the palm of his hand, eyes glowing blue as it looked to him.

His mother wept that night as his father screamed at the top of his lungs, asking how a necromancer could have ended up in their family.

_ Necromancer _ . It was such a beautiful word, so elegant in the way it fell from his tongue. It was powerful too, able to defy death. If it was power his father said was important, why was he so upset about it?

Over and over he tried to show them his creations, honing his skill in secret. He spent long hours studying methods used and decided that sound was a good one. He took two coins he found in the dirt road as his tools of choice.  He went from mice, foxes, cats, and dogs, each time going bigger.

But it always ended the same, with a beating and a scolding. He just couldn’t understand, especially when the animals he brought back seemed so grateful for a second chance at life, thanking him with kisses and cuddles and playtimes, especially when death was talked about like an uncaring force of nature that everyone became victim to eventually, and yet he had the power to defy it.

As his mind turmoiled to come up with a solution, Hector found himself wandering off the beaten path, trudging through leaf beds and limbing over logs. On he went, and he kept going until he found the solution to his problems.

Hector gasped when he saw the dead deer, sunlight shining upon it like it was a gift to the heavens. 

It was by no means fresh, bloated with some skin peeled back by scavenging birds to pick at the rotting flesh, but it was good enough.

Spurred by excitement he ran to the carcasses side, throwing himself onto his knees. 

“It’s going to be okay,” he told it as he brought the coins out of his pockets, “You’ll be back before you know it!”

Hector took a deep breath and shut his eyes. This would be the largest thing he ever brought to life if he succeeded, then they’d  _ have _ to understand his magic for the wonderous thing it was. 

He focused on himself first, becoming aware of every breath, every hair on his body. He kept focusing until he could feel the fire within himself, and then he struck the coins together. 

They rang as sparks flew from their surface, the very life force within himself within them.

Again he struck them together. Then again. He lost count of how many times he tried after the tenth ‘again’.

But it was simply too much. There just simply wasn’t enough in the sparks or himself to bring the deer back.

Hector tried not to cry, he tried very hard but the failure was just too much.

“I’m sorry…” he whispered to the deer, laying against it and stroking its head. His tears wet its soft walnut fur as he pressed his face to it, unbothered by the stench even as it seeped into his clothes..

As he let his mind wander once more he considered not returning home. He knew which berries and mushrooms were safe, and what plants to avoid. He knew how to theoretically make a shelter from branches and leaves, so why not? Why not just leave and spare everyone the trouble of dealing with him? He could have all the animals he wanted and no one to tell him-

“You’ve  _ got _ to be fucking kidding me!”

Hector gasped as the horrid voice, the one that sent shivers down his spine and made his hair stand on end. Before he could defend himself his mother grabbed him by his upper arm and pulled him to his feet. He screamed, swearing he could feel his arm stretching too far, “ _ Mama, stop! You’re hurting me! _ ”

She didn’t even acknowledge his tears or pitiful begs to stop the entire way home. She slammed open the front door, marching straight to his father’s lab and shoving him to the floor, fire spewing from her ears, “Do you know where I found your son!?”

He sighed and put his head in his hands, “Obviously I have no idea. I was here the whole time.” he grumbled.

“He was cuddling a dead deer this time! A dead fucking deer!” she stomped past Hector where he lay curled on the floor, shivering in fear, “For the love of God, do something about him!”

“Well what do you want me to do!?” he snapped, “I’ve tried to get sense into that boy many times and nothing works!”

His mother scoffed, crossing her arms unimpressed, “Well obviously you’re not doing enough or else he wouldn’t be like this!”

“I’ve done all I could!” he slammed his hands on the desk as he stood, chair clattering to the ground, “You know just as well as I do this is your own damn fault!”

“My fault!?” she screeched.

“Lord knows you’ve slept with just about every man in this town, you shameless whore!” he growls, “Did you sleep with that lunatic on the corner who spends his time talking to delusions and dancing in the street too, huh!? Is that why this little bastard is just as crazy as him!?”

His mother recoiled as if bitten by a snake, face redder than the devil, “How  _ dare _ you!” she screamed, lunging at him like a rabid cat, “After I’ve been nothing but loyal-!”

His father grabbed and threw her into the wall, unleashing his fury onto her.

Hector took his chance and scrambled to his feet, covering his ears as he ran. As long as they were focused on each other, he could run, hopefully they would be too angry with each other to remember him.

No such luck.

Just as he made it to the stairs a rough hand grabbed him by the hair, throwing him into a shelf.

Hector gasped for breath as the wind was knocked out of him, his entire back aflame with pain. He wrenched his eyes shut, knowing that if he looked at the figure of his father towering over him it would only make him panic more.

He didn’t remember much after that. Just the searing pain spreading across his body, more screaming, and then darkness.

As always, he silently prayed that he wouldn’t wake up just before he lost consciousness.

* * *

He came back into the world with a yelp of pain as something painfully cold pressed against his aching cheek.

“Shut up.” his mother said, but there was no bite behind the words. Just numbness. 

He opened his eyes only to find one swollen shut, though the other could see fine.

His mother lingered above him, sitting on the edge of the bed as she wet a cloth. She was sporting her own bruised face as well, a large mix of purple and red covering her cheek.

He whimpered as she pressed the wet cloth carefully against his eye, but bit his tongue.

She kept it there for a moment before removing it, sighing, “I don’t understand you, Hector…”

Hector blinked, the sadness in her voice surprising him. He pushed himself up with a grunt, waiting to see if she would continue.

“I thought…” she cleared her throat, “I looked forward to your birth… I thought after all this time, after marrying a man who didn’t love me I’d finally have someone who I could understand, someone I could finally be close with... but the moment you were born I knew you’d be nothing but a burden.”

Hector shrunk at the words, his stomach a burning cesspool of shame and everything that came along with it.

“It isn’t your fault…” she says, holding her head in her hands, “There horrible vile people on both sides of the family. It’s just the way you are. You’re just… strange, and troublesome, and you can’t help but hate me.”

Hector gulps, deciding to swallow his fear and take a risk, “I don’t hate you…” he whispers, touching her shoulder lightly.

“Yes you do.” she says like she’s reassuring herself, “You do, or else you wouldn’t do this to me. You wouldn’t keep playing with dead animals and you wouldn’t be such a horrible child.”

He shifted uncomfortably, her words cutting deep into his chest and nestling in his heart. Maybe she was right. Maybe there was something wrong with his head, because despite that he found himself scooting closer, laying his head in her lap.

From the corner of his eye he saw her smile ever so slightly, petting his head and running her fingers through his silver hair.

Slowly the pit in his stomach melted away, the sting of her words became less intense, almost nothing compared to the soft warmth spreading from his head to his toes, settling deep in his bones. He wished it could always be like this, or maybe that was selfish. Maybe all the hurt was worth this one wonderful moment between mother and son.

No. It was, it was worth it. He’d take any amount of punches or kicks if it meant they could always do this. If it meant walking through Hell and back he’d do it, because he loved her, and maybe one day she’s understand that. For love, he’d do it.

“Come now,” she said, lifting him by his chin, “Your father’s gone to the tavern, that gives us a few hours, maybe even the whole night if we’re lucky. Would you like to bake a cake?”

Hector smiled and nodded eagerly. Cake sounded really good.

“Can’t be miserable on an empty stomach.” she said as she stood, and Hector couldn’t agree more.

He followed her to the kitchen. He helped her pour and measure ingredients. She joked and laughed with him and brought out chilled milk for them to drink with their cake at the end of their work.

There was still the hurt in his chest, there was still lingering pain in his back and face, but he couldn’t be happier.

As he finished his last sip of milk, he was suddenly overcome with tiredness, yawning loudly (despite the fact that the stretch of his mouth caused his cheek to throb once more).

“Tired?” his mother asked, “We had a long day, didn’t we?”

Hector nodded in agreement, too tired to reply. His mother didn’t seem to want one as she stood and picked him up, carrying him upstairs to his room.

For a moment, he pretended that he was in a perfect world, that his mother and father were proud and accepting and that his face was covered with kisses instead of bruises. In that perfect world they understood.

As was tucked into bed, he wished, just as hard as always, that his parents understood. Only his animals understood it, the ones who were grateful, understanding and-

Wait.

Maybe that was it, maybe they  _ couldn’t _ understand because they weren’t _experiencing_ his magic for themselves!

As Hector drifted into the land of slumber, the perfect plan to make them understand formed in his head.

**Author's Note:**

> Might make this a series leading up to the events of the series... idk, maybe, maybe not.


End file.
